


Wicked Game

by DarchangelSkye



Category: Adam Levine (Musician), Blake Shelton (Musician), Music RPF, Real Person Fiction, The Voice (US) RPF, The Voice RPF
Genre: Comment Fic, Community: comment_fic, Cross-Posted on LiveJournal, Flirting, Innuendo, M/M, No Dialogue, Present Tense, Teasing, Wordcount: 500-1.000
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-01-03
Updated: 2016-01-03
Packaged: 2018-05-11 07:28:09
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 697
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5618662
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/DarchangelSkye/pseuds/DarchangelSkye
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>a fill for the comment-fic prompt; The Voice, Blake Shelton/Adam Levine - teasing of an entirely different kind</p>
            </blockquote>





	Wicked Game

**Author's Note:**

  * For [dreamsofspike](https://archiveofourown.org/users/dreamsofspike/gifts).



> [specific link to the prompt in question.](http://comment-fic.livejournal.com/670143.html?thread=89039551#t89039551)

It's all part of their game, Adam knows that. He's not always going to have the upper hand and there's been many days- and nights- where he's appreciated that. But that doesn't stop the moments when his tongue lies dry and heavy in his mouth or his eyes can't focus or he even forgets what English is.

Take right now, for example. It's a typical break in taping, Pharrell's stayed in his seat while the others are gathered around it and everybody's shooting the breeze as usual, Blake even leaning on his elbows and drinking from his cup just as casual as you please. And given where everybody's standing he's in profile, so Adam can occasionally see a leg- a _long_ leg- swing back and forth. To the untrained eye Blake looks positively bored, but that's also part of the game.

For instance, those jeans. Of course a country star is going to be wearing form-fitting jeans, it's like, the law. And of course Blake's jeans in particular have to especially hug his lower half just right. Whether he's seen it in person or on YouTube concert footage, Adam keeps those images locked in his memory for when the nights are stiflingly long.

So, yeah, those long legs of his. Long _everything_ given how tall he is, even if he only towers over Adam by a few inches. But when it's just the two of them those inches make all the difference, whether he's being lovingly suffocated in Blake's arms or paying all his worship to long legs, especially the one that can't stop swaying right now.

Blake is bent just so and moving so deliberately, when he tilts his head back enough to take a long pull from his drink, somehow Adam's reminded of those old pinup drawings where the girl's sipping from her vintage Coke bottle and giving sly eyes to somebody just out of frame. Should sound silly but it doesn't, especially since Blake chooses that instant to shift his gaze with those blue eyes suddenly gone dark.

Adam's intake of breath is quiet through his parted lips but he still feels it, along with his cheeks going just red enough to be noticeable to the other man. He's not sure if Blake can read his mind, but there's plenty of want showing on his face that he doesn't have to. 

For all that Pharrell and Christina love noticing moments like this- if there was a Shevine Fan Club they'd definitely squabble over who got to be president- neither of them say anything. Which is a blessing given that Adam's tongue feels tied in knots right now and if Blake was to open that sly mouth of his he'd most likely come out with something to leave Adam a puddle on the floor.

It's bad enough that when Blake sets his cup down the tip of his tongue peeks from the corner of his mouth and carefully glides along the seam, merely looking like catching a stray droplet but of course Adam knows better. He's done that move himself enough times to know it suggests a private moment later when that tongue can be put to _really_ good use. The mental image has him grasp a chair's arm until his knuckles are white so he doesn't pass right out.

Everyone's given a five-minute warning to head back to their seats for the next round of singers, and dutifully Blake turns to do just that.

Ugh. Do the kids still say "dat ass"? Because that's the only reaction Adam can think of as he watches _that_ body in _those_ jeans strutting without a care in the world and knowing exactly what it's doing. Of course he can't stand there forever with fantasies brewing in his head and ducks back to his own chair in time to swallow some water in an attempt to calm down.

From the other end of the row, he's pretty damn certain Blake just chuckled in victory.

OK, Blake wins this round, but there's still enough hours in the day for Adam to catch up. He knows a thing or two himself about teasing somebody to leave them helpless and desperate. 


End file.
